


Tutors

by inkandpencil



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: "First Meeting" sort of scenario, (But we all know it really isn't a first meeting), And I'm just going to do my part, And also by artwork by naniiebimworks, Gen, Inspired by artwork done by the wonderful Whiteley Foster, It was pointed out that after Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis left, The tutors Mr. Harrison and Mr. Cortese arrived to tutor Warlock Dowling, There needs to be more Tutors in this fandom, This could turn into a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandpencil/pseuds/inkandpencil
Summary: "When Warlock was six, his nanny left, taking Rover with her; the gardener handed in his resignation on the same day. Neither of them left with quite the same spring in their step with which they'd arrived.Warlock now found himself being educated by two tutors.Mr. Harrison taught him about Attila the Hun, Vlad Drakul, and the Darkness Intrisicate in the Human Spirit. He tried to teach Warlock how to make rabble-rousing political speeches to sway the hearts and minds of multitudes.Mr. Cortese taught him about Florence Nightingale, Abraham Lincoln, and the appreciation of art. He tried to teach him about free will, self-denial, and Doing unto Others as You Would Wish Them to Do to You."-Good Omens
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Mr. Harrison & Mr. Cortese
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Tutors

Warlock wasn't sure what to make of his new tutors; there was something familiar about each of them even though they'd only been here and teaching him for a few days. He shrugged to himself and resumed his climb in one of the few trees Brother Francis had ever allowed him to climb. Not that the gardener was there, anymore, but still.

As he thought on it, because his mind kept coming back to it, he realized he no more wanted to upset Mr. Harrison than he had wanted to upset Nanny. And he no more wanted to disappoint Mr. Cortese than he had wanted to disappoint Brother Francis. What kept slipping through his grasp of understanding was _why_. Which was likely for the best.

From the window of the room the Dowlings had insisted on giving him, 'Mr. Cortese' looked out over the gardens, idly sifting his fingers through his beard. There had been times throughout history that he'd needed to grow one, so the feeling was not one he'd never experienced before, but it _had_ been quite some time. And he was rather certain his counterpart had never seen him with one, as he thought back on it.

He supposed he was lucky, honestly, that the beard showed up at all, as short as he'd grown it to. He'd usually had trouble with that sort of thing due to the white-blond color of his hair, which was why he had usually worn longer beards. He'd tried dying his hair, once, a long while back, only for the dye to wash straight out during the next rain. He'd never tried again. Of course, this time around, he'd been surprised by the variety of gold and blond colors that had grown in his beard. Turning his head to look into the mirror against the wall next to him, the angel-in-disguise eyed himself critically.

Going for a specific 'look', he'd foregone his usual coat, ignored any blazers or cardigans, changed his usual waistcoat for a more 'modern' one (which was surprisingly comfortable), and wore his shirt sleeves rolled up. He still wore a bowtie - mostly because tying one had become second nature to him and he'd struggled so much with a more normal tie - and he still carried his pocket watch, but he'd even shifted his color scheme a little, moving away from the creams, golds, and light blues he was used to into more light greys and lavenders. He had darker bowties, too, and though he'd kept his favored tartan pattern, it was subdued and hidden away in the colors.

It was difficult to see Aziraphale in this guise, at least to himself. He turned his head toward his open door at the knock, but didn't actually turn around. He knew who it was.

"Ah…Mr. Cortese, I presume?" asked the smooth voice in the doorway, followed by a soft clearing of the throat. He turned around to look at the speaker.

"Indeed. Mr. Harrison, I infer?" he responded calmly. The man standing in the doorway was tall and slim, as expected, dressed in a dark grey 3-piece suit with a red shirt and black tie, and looking at him through dark lenses. It was a little more difficult to read his facial expression with the red beard adorning his face, but that red hair was unmistakable. The taller man nodded once and 'Mr. Cortese' felt as though he was being scrutinized by that hidden gaze. "It is a pleasure to meet you, good sir," he added.

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," the other man said softly, his tone enough to cause the quirk of a blond eyebrow. The red-head appeared to shiver at that and the shorter man's mind raced through the possible causes. It wasn't until the other man tilted his head down just enough to peer over the darkened lenses at him that the blond realized he'd been correct - his counterpart had never seen him like this. Bearded and not wearing the standard colors he'd worn for millenia. Then he noticed the darkening of the red-head's cheeks as the other man gestured into the room. "May I come in?"

"Of course," he replied with a small smirk, unable to help himself. It wasn't every day he caught the demon off guard, after all. 'Mr. Harrison' entered and walked right up to him, crowding into his personal space.

"You're practically indecent, angel," he whispered. The blond's brows furrowed.

"I'm not sure what you mean," he responded, equally as quiet. As answer, the demon reached out and pressed his hand to the angel's visible forearm. The blond was surprised to feel a slight tremor in that usually calm touch. It made his mind race; and then he realized it had been a very, very, VERY long time since the demon had seen his arms. He gave the other tutor a smile. "Well, I don't expect that our young pupil will be very distracted, Mr. Harrison," he purred, enjoying seeing the golden eyes half-visible behind the dark lenses widen. The taller man visibly gulped.

"Aziraphale?" breathed the demon. He sounded so uncertain, so lost, that the angel took pity on him. Reaching up, he ran his fingertips lightly over the other man's red beard, smiling softly.

"I'm sorry if I caught you off guard, dear boy," he murmured. "I thought it best to distance myself from both Brother Francis and my own usual self."

"Ah." The response showed how rocked Crowley still was. Feeling bold, the angel looked the taller man down and up, noting the brighter blush after the very visible once-over.

"You look dashingly dapper," he offered with a smile. The red-head gulped again.

"You… you, too."

"Oh, come now, Mr. Harrison. You'll likely get used to this before too long," he offered, finding himself exceptionally surprised by the demon's reactions. He watched as, wide-eyed, 'Mr. Harrison' shook his head before taking a deep breath.

"Not bloody likely." It came out on the exhale, just some words gently breathed into the space between them. 'Mr. Cortese' chuckled, soft and low, causing another shiver in the taller man. It was one of the many times where the angel wished he could actually see the demon's gorgeous eyes; he'd be more able to read the other's mood better that way. Still, if his reactions were anything to go by, Crowley was caught _very_ off guard by Aziraphale's appearance.

"Is there anything else I could do for you, Mr. Harrison?" he asked, barely managing to keep himself from smirking at the expressions that crossed that beautiful and much-loved face before him (and yes, he'd admitted to himself, and to God, ages ago that he loved Crowley…loved and was _in_ love). The demon gulped hard once more, as if words had failed him. Or as if he were swallowing what he'd rather say instead of the words that he _did_ say.

"No, I simply thought I would come introduce myself. Should you need anything, Mr. Cortese, the Dowlings have been kind enough to give me a room across the hall and just down a ways from yours." The demon straightened, dropping his hand from the angel's arm. The blond allowed the hand he'd been lightly caressing the other man's beard with to fall back to his side.

"I appreciate the offer. It was a pleasure meeting you, to be sure. Should you need anything of me, please feel free to come knock." The look Crowley gave him over his sunglasses was filled with heat, promise, and surprise. Aziraphale-in-disguise merely smiled.


End file.
